Who Needs Sleep, Anyways?
by DivineFawn
Summary: Based on the tumblr prompt: It's like 3am and you're exhausted and you can hear your neighbor next door raging about failing at putting an Ikea bed together so here you are helping them put it together and holy shit they're cute. SEPTIPLIER AWAY
1. Bless Ikea Furniture

**Chapter 1: Bless Ikea Furniture**

Nothing is worse than being ripped out of your sleep, especially at 3am. So as Mark sat up in bed irritably, he questioned why the hell he was even up.

" _God dammit!"_

Oh. That's right. He could distinctly hear the shouting through his paper thin walls, and Mark immediately scowled. He briefly debated whether or not to go back to sleep and ignore the yelling or go deal with his new neighbor's ruckus, but his decision was practically made when he heard another particularly loud swear.

With a grumble, Mark threw off his sheets, shoved his feet into their correct slipper, and headed out of his shitty apartment. In the hall, he paused for a moment to find out where exactly the sound had come from.

" _FUCK!"_

Left it was, then.

His knuckles rapped impatiently against the worn wooden door before him, exhaustion and frustration getting the best of him. Mark had gotten home late the previous night from a particularly long recording session with the grumps (not that he would ever really complain since he enjoyed their company and had a great time). Still, it left Mark tired as hell. He shouldn't be standing out in the middle of the hall, pink fluffy slippers and a pair of boxer shorts and all, and yet he was.

As the door finally the door swung open, Mark readied his complaints on his tongue but they died in his throat. Holy hell, his neighbor was _hot._

"Yes?" the man asked in a cautious voice. He was only slightly shorter than Mark (but appeared much smaller due to his lighter build), fluffy, neon green locks stuck out from his head at every which way, and giant blue orbs hid behind a pair of simple black lens. He was _definitely_ Mark's type.

"Uh-" Mark said smartly. "I was just- I couldn't help but overhear that you're having trouble with something?" He cringed. He came over here to give his neighbor piece of his mind, and now he was some kind of good samaritan?

"Oh! Yeah, sorry." Little Mr. Hottie fidgeted with his woven bracelets nervously. "I was trying to put together my new bed frame, but I'm not very handy with these types of things."

"That explains all the swearing then," Mark replied with a small chuckle which his neighbor answered with one of his own. Mark was about to turn away and go back to bed when an idea struck him. "You know, I could help you with it if you want," his lips moved before he could stop them. The two of them were complete strangers, he didn't know anything about Mark and vice versa and yet–

"Yes! Please! God, thank you," the grass-haired stranger exclaimed, and ushered Mark inside excitedly.

With that alluring and presumably Irish accent of his, Mark followed meekly behind the man. The next thing he knew Mark was inside the cutie's apartment, standing side by side with the Irishman as they gazed upon at a bunch of wooden parts strewn haphazardly across the mostly empty bedroom.

"I'm Jack, by the way. Figure you should know my name since we're gonna put my bed together, huh?" He laughed, and Mark wanted to cry at how beautiful that simple noise was.

"Mark." He internally fist pumped at being able to keep an even tone.

Jack smiled. "Well, let's get to work!"

So the two went about assembling Jack's large bed frame, trying to figure out the directions from the vague pictures on the instructions alone.

"See, this is why I don't buy furniture from IKEA," Mark joked, earning another laugh from Jack.

Mark and Jack continued to make idle conversation, Mark asking the other questions who would then as Mark a question in return. Jack then complimented the Mark's slippers, which he posed dramatically for. Jack asked about Mark's work, so he told him that he was a full-time YouTuber.

"No shit!" Jack exclaimed, and Mark turned to him with a raised brow. "I do YouTube, too!"

Mark and Jack laughed at the slim possibility of two rather large YouTubers somehow ending up right next door to each other. What were the chances of that? Mark asked Jack a little more about himself and learned that he had just moved to LA after dropping out of university back in Ireland. He even got a part time job at Starbucks to help pay for the moving costs. Mark told him with a wink that he would definitely stop by the next time Jack worked. Jack turned his head away, though Mark could still pick up the faint dusting of pink across his pale cheeks.

At some point he even apologized to Mark for dragging him from his bed just to help someone like _him,_ so Mark waved off his worries, saying, "Who needs sleep, anyways?"

"Sleep is for the weak!" Jack agreed with a light laugh.

Finally around 4am, the construction was complete. "You know, since we went through all the trouble of putting your bed together, why don't we test it out?" Mark suggested with a sly grin.

Jack laughed and thanked Mark for his help, face reddened slightly. Mark left his apartment with a dumb smile on his face, the tingling sensation of lips against his cheek, and Jack's number written in Sharpie on his hand.


	2. Expensive Coffee and Flirty Grins

**Chapter 2: Expensive Coffee and Flirty Grins**

Mark texted him the very next day.

Jack knew he would, after all, he _had_ tried to lay on his Irish charm extra thick, so really it was only a matter of time.

Jack had been sitting on his newly put together bed, sipping his morning coffee and checking his Twitter feed when his phone buzzed silently beside him. A quick check confirmed that it was a text from an unknown number. He could barely contain the grin that spread across his face.

' _Hey it's Mark',_ it read simply, and was basically a text so Jack could get Mark's number in turn. He laughed. His neighbor was such a dork, texting him the very next morning after their little late night (or would that be early morning?) escapade.

He grabbed his phone, ready to shoot off a reply, but hesitated. He wasn't quite sure what to say; starting conversations had never really been his strong point. Sure, Jack could participate in them well enough, but he usually opted to wait for other people to talk first. Besides, he had to get dressed and ready for work. Rather than replying immediately like he wanted to, he chose instead to save Mark's number as "dorky butt" and set his phone on the bedside table to go get dressed.

Thank God Starbucks was right down the street from Jack's crap apartment. That meant only a short walk later and he was there, since he didn't have a car yet to drive around in this country. His boss and coworkers greeted him as he entered, and the pungent yet fragrant scent of coffee beans filled his nose. Inhaling deeply, Jack let out a sigh of content. Sure, working as a barista at Starbucks sucked balls, but he did enjoy the smell of the freshly ground coffee filling the air more than anything. And of course the employee discount.

After putting on the signature green apron, Jack's phone buzzed again. He grabbed it out of his pocket and noted, with little surprise, that it was Mark. Rather, it was dorky butt. Jack grinned a little at the dumb nickname he had given him earlier, though immediately regretted it when his coworker peered over his shoulder and raised a brow.

"Dorky butt?" Cole questioned with a scoff.

Jack felt his face heat up. "Shuddup."

His coworker smirked. "Got a bit of a crush there?"

Promptly flipping him the bird, Jack marched off, only to hear Cole's laughter echoing behind him.

In the safety of the break room, Jack finally checked the newest message. Mark was asking him to come over and play some video games. While Jack would absolutely _love_ to do that, he was busy being stuck at work. He replied to him just that.

Work went pretty smoothly for the most part, though Jack's mind wasn't really focused on the frappucinos he was making. Instead, he thought of Mark in all of his wonderfully thick glory, all broad shoulders and tanned skin and dark eyes and fiery red hair and-

"Jack!"

And shit. There he was.

He practically bounded up the counter, goofy smile plastered all over his face.

"Mark," Jack murmured, more than slightly surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He grinned, and Jack noted that there was an easy confidence to the way he held himself. "I told you I'd come visit the next time you worked."

Jack matched Mark's smile with one of his own.

"Besides, I just _have_ to order the douchiest drink here."

Jack's grin deflated as he then glared playfully at the other man. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me." There was a twinkle of mischief in his deep chocolate orbs before he took a deep breath and said all at once in a rush, "I'd like a venti iced skinny hazelnut macchiato latte with an extra shot of espresso, light ice, and no whip. _Please."_

Jack felt his mouth drop in shock. What a little _bitch._ "Fine," he snapped without any real heat to it. He then proceeded to charge Mark a ridiculous amount for the drink (Starbucks is fucking pricey, after all) and handed him the receipt with an over the top sarcastic smile. "Here's your receipt, _sir."_

Mark chuckled at the blatant display of attitude, the deep timbre rumble of it sending shivers down Jack's spine. It was truly unfair how attractive some people were.

Jack's coworker rolled his eyes upon seeing the new, complicated order. "I've got this," he told Cole. Jack was determined to make Mark suffer for his horrible drink order.

Jack could feel the intensity of Mark's eyes glued to him as he shuffled about, swaying his hips to imaginary music. Jack chuckled to himself, seeing the other's molten chocolate orbs track his every move. He then made a show of turning around and _bending over_ to reach for something from the bottom shelf that he didn't even need. Jack was damn sure to wriggle his ass a bit when he did. He heard a sharp intake of breath behind him and he smirked. He had already won.

When the drink was ready Jack slid it over to Mark, whose face was unabashedly red, and Jack showed off his pearly whites, blinking his eyes innocently as though he had done nothing wrong. Except he knew exactly what he'd done, and Mark knew it too. But going by the look on his face, Mark didn't seem to have minded too much.

Mark silently took his drink, not even bothering to grab a straw as he stumbled away, and Jack laugh out loud as the other tried to force his legs to move properly.

He stood there, victorious, arms crossed proudly in front of him. He had managed to knock Mark down a peg with nothing more than a little show. It wasn't even like Jack had been naked or anything. Hm. Naked. Now he kind of wondered what kind of expression Mark would wear upon seeing him fully exposed–

With a shake of his head Jack stopped that train of thought right there before it could derail. Work was _not_ the place to be thinking of sexy times.

Mark seemed to realize he needed a straw, and dashed back up for it. He opened his mouth as though to say something, but closed it right up again. Jack was expecting him to say something stupid, like a witty or snide remark, but instead Mark seemed to think better of his words. Jack raised his brow at him as he opened his mouth again, saying the last words Jack would have expected him to at the moment.

"What time do you get off?"

He blinked. "Four," Jack replied, a little unsure as to where the other was going with this.

Mark nodded, averting his eyes with another blush. "Come to my place after, if you can."

Jack gave the other a cheeky grin. Mark was _definitely_ thinking about sex. Jack gave him another once over, and decided _yes_ , he would definitely fuck this strange but attractive man.

"Sure thing," Jack said, shit eating grin still firmly in place.

Mark nodded hurriedly, jerking his head rapidly as though Jack may change his mind, grabbed his drink and a straw, and practically ran out of the building. Jack laugh, watching him shuffle away down the road, trying in vain not to spill his drink. He turned just in time to see his coworker give him _the look._ He knew exactly what Jack was up to.

"What? Can't a guy have a little fun?"


	3. Definitely Worth the Wait

**Chapter 3: Definitely Worth the Wait**

It was almost 8pm when Mark finally heard a knock at his door.

When he had gotten home from Starbucks he could hardly wait till 4. By the time it had reached 5pm, he was beginning to doubt Jack would ever show. He had tried to rationalize it, thinking that maybe Jack needed time to get home and change. But by 6 Mark had practically given up hope. With a sigh of defeat, he snatched one of the last frozen pizzas and popped it in the oven. He had been hoping to have company to share the pizza with, and as Mark sat at his cheap wooden table munching on a slice of Hawaiian, that feeling only doubled.

Mark was only human. Humans get lonely.

Sure he had YouTube and it meant the absolute world to him that it could be considered his full-time job, but sometimes Mark feel a bit… trapped.

Of course he wasn't, recording videos in his home office wasn't the least bit caging, but the amount of time and effort that he put into YouTube left little free time to actually go out and meet other human beings. Save for the friends he already knew and regularly hung out with, there weren't too many people in his life. Let alone a romantic interest.

And then he met Jack.

He was everything Mark was looking for in a partner, handsome, kind, witty, and of course, a gamer. Him being a YouTuber as well only added to the whole appeal.

As soon as Mark had gotten back to his apartment from building the bed he had immediately typed 'jacksepticeye' on YouTube and held his breath. When Jack's beautiful face popped up on the thumbnails, he felt his heartbeat automatically pick up. Needless to say, he had spent a good portion of the remaining night watching the other's content and having a good laugh. The guy was _damn_ funny.

Sometime around 8am he had realized that he needed to get his beauty sleep, and Mark had absolutely crashed. When his power nap was over he immediately grabbed his phone and sent the number written on his hand a quick text. That way, Jack could get his number and text Mark back if he wanted to.

Not hearing back from the Irishman was a little disheartening, so Mark had sent another text. Maybe he was a little desperate. He figured only time would tell.

In the meantime Mark had gotten some recording done. Jack's eventual reply had sent his heart soaring. And it proved that he _did_ in fact want to spend time with Mark, just that he was busy with work. That last bit made a lightbulb go off in his head.

Mark figured it was time to pay Jack a little visit.

Quickly he googled 'douchiest drinks to order at Starbucks' and hit enter. Some of the drink names made him scoff. Did people actually order that shit?

He randomly picked one from a list and decided _good enough_ and quickly headed out. Mark tried and failed to keep the silly smile on his face from widening when he saw Jack. He looked pretty damn good, Starbucks uniform and all. Although the two varying shades of green from his hair and the apron _did_ clash slightly–

A sharp knock interrupted Mark from his thoughts and he snapped back to the present.

The knocking continued in rapid succession, the person presumably getting tired of waiting. Quickly Mark made for the door, scrambling to get it open. By the time he did he was greeted with Jack and his resting smile. He was dressed casually, obviously having changed from work earlier. Mark tried not to grin stupidly at the other. He failed.

"Hey," he said casually, and _damn,_ his Irish accent did wonders to Mark's heart.

"Hey," Mark responded, backing up to let him in.

"Sorry I'm late," Jack said, and the sincerity of his voice made Mark wave off his concerns easily. He didn't even give a fuck that Jack was late because he was there now and that was all that mattered to Mark.

Mark watched as Jack's baby blues scanned his apartment, Jack nodding his approval. Mark bit his lip, waiting for him to say something. Instead of commenting on Mark's decor –or lack thereof– Jack said with a smile, "So what game are we gonna start with?"

Mark grinned again, unable to help himself.

It was when they had both settled down on the couch that a thought occurred to Mark. "Jack, did you manage to upload a video today? You had like, no time to record."

"Yeah," he replied simply, swearing when his character got killed on screen. "I record most of my videos in advance and set them to automatically publish."

"Huh." While Mark had thought about doing that before he knew it took a lot of hard work and commitment. Mark would much rather take things slow and as they come, recording and publishing videos the day of.

"Yep," Jack agreed. "Besides. Sometimes life comes up unexpectedly. Like today."

Mark didn't have to look in a mirror to know his signature dopey grin was back on his face.

The gameplay continued, and when their combined team won Jack shouted in victory, facing Mark and demanding a high five. He had watched enough of Jack's videos to know that this was a common thing for him.

"Why do you even work at Starbucks if you have YouTube?" Mark asked out of open curiosity as the screen changed to the next battle. "I mean, I'm sure YouTube supports you well enough."

"What can I say, I'm always a slut for Starbucks." Jack laughed with a carefree shrug. Mark joined in with his own booming laughter and he could physically feel himself relax more than he had in the past couple of weeks.

By the time they had both settled down again Mark noticed Jack tapping idly away at his phone. "Who's that?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Just a friend," Jack replied, and his lack of an answer annoyed Mark for some reason, though he knew logically that it wasn't any of his business in the first place. Jack, apparently noticing the other's hardening gaze, raised a brow. "What, jealous already?"

"What, me, _jealous?"_ Mark scoffed good-naturedly. "No way."

Jack simply grinned again, finally clicking his phone screen off and setting the device to the side. He turned to Mark, increasingly familiar shit-eating grin spreading across his face. "You're _totally_ jealous."

Mark could only scoff again to his words.

Then there was a flash of movement and before Mark had time to properly register what was happening Jack had closed the distance between the two of them and was had straddled Mark's lap. He was warm, comfortingly so, his weight only slightly pressing into Mark as he settled his knees on either side of him. Jack reached his hands up, trailing his fingers with feather-like touches across Mark's broad chest before they wrapped firmly around his neck. Mark could hardly suppress a shiver at the sensation. His eyes locked with Jack's baby blues which narrowed slightly. The Irishman's grin was gone, now replaced with something darker, and it made Mark's mouth water and nostrils flair. His hands automatically moved to the other's thighs, running upwards on the rough jean fabric before resting at his hips in front of him, giving them a firm squeeze. Jack's plump lips parted as he bit his lower lip, letting out little puffs of warm air that spread pleasantly across Mark's face.

The mood had changed so quickly and Mark could hardly breathe but he wouldn't change a thing because the way Jack looked at him as he finally pressed his lips firmly against Mark's, he wouldn't change it for the world.


End file.
